Hellmouth Series: Worker's Comp
by Buffkin
Summary: When Daddy needs a new pair of shoes, the vamps go shopping, leaving Lock and his hunters fighting the eternal fight between good and...well... lazy.


Hellmouth #4  
"Worker's Comp"  
  
Four men. Sitting on one couch. Four men. Exhausted. Four men. Haven't done a damn thing all day. Four men. Lazy as hell.  
These four men in question happen to be, from left to right: Nicholas, Gene, Antoine, and Mark (of the regulars). A steady flow of traffic runs behind them in the form of Jules Kafner and Charles Larson, the two and only official members of the research units. Each time they pass, they eye the foursome, watching what is, for all intents and purposes, nothing on TV. They make no noises and no movements, with the exception of the random groin scratches. On one trip around, Larson stops in his tracks and looks at the backs of their heads, their eyes locked on the glowing box. "You know, we still have research left to do and books to categorize. I'm sure you all could be of some help in that aspect."  
Silence.  
"Well, shouldn't you all be training or something, instead of laying around like ., layabouts?"  
Gene throws a pillow from the couch behind him, smacking Larson in the chest and making him drop all his books.  
"That hit you in the heart?" Gene asked, his eyes never parting from the TV.  
"Well, in the chest, yes."  
"In the left side of your chest?" Mark added.  
"Yes, well, that's besides the point, and."  
"I'm done. I'll sign off credit for everybody else, too." Gene said. Larson used some British mumbles under his breath and kept on until Jules stopped him. She brushed her shoulder length brown hair behind her ears with her finger and placed the books on the table. "Larson, I have to take a break. We've been sorting the stacks all day and if I walk past the comatose bunch one more time they're gonna get books thrown at them. And some of these books are heavy, too, Larson."  
"Granted, yes, you've worked hard all day. I have no problem with you heading out for a while, but are you going to be back anytime soon?" Larson asked.  
"Well, I'm gonna go by my baby's job and see what he is up to. If he isn't busy, I'll hang out there until he closes. I'll come back then."  
"Excellent. We have to look up details on Truluk demons just to make sure that we don't have to do anything special with the body so that Ophelia doesn't come back, and a little help will go a long way."  
"Yeah, I might be able to get Lock to help too, cuz I told him he needs to let Gene handle the hunt tonight. That punk's been passed out half the day and lazy the rest." Jules walked up to a closet door, opened it, and pulled her jacket out. She walked through the stacks and out into the open area where the boys are lounging. "Alright, boys, I'm going out. Y'all need anything?"  
"Chips!"  
"Dip would be nice."  
"Did we run out of milk. hey, where's the milk?"  
"I could use my Favre jersey ironed."  
"Alright. Great, boys, now that we have the list of everything we need, now we have motivation to get off your asses and grab them." She slapped her hands together, giggled a bit, and walked out. The group sat in silence for a moment or two, until Nicholas broke the silence: ".. that wasn't necessary."  
Across town, Lock, known as Locklear or "Mr. Taylor" here, folds clothes and straightens hangers. As the bell rings atop the door, he welcomes the visitor without looking to see who it might be. "Welcome to Everyday Male, where you can find more sales than anywhere else. Are we looking for a gift or a gift card, today?"  
"Not unless that gift comes in the form of a pair of lips." spoke the mysterious visitor.  
Startled, Lock turned to see his wonderful girlfriend coming to visit him. He smiled and stepped toward Jules, greeting her with a kiss. "Why are you here? You didn't leave Larson out of his cage, did you?"  
"He's chained to the tree, so he's good. I just knew you were closing tonight and I know how boring Tuesday nights are for you."  
"Yeah. you've been my first customer since I signed in this afternoon. I've been bored to tears."  
"Anyways, I'll chill with you til you close and I'll help you with clean-up, but you gotta treat for dinner tonight."  
"That's cool, as long as you don't mind the dollar menu."  
"Well, can we at least play in the kids playground there?"  
An hour passes and business picks up to a few customers. During a slow point, Jules looks out the window to see a few sketchy looking guys sitting at the other end of the parking lot in the shadow of another building. One kept turning and looking at the store, and he would then turn to his comrades, say a few things, and they would all share a few good laughs. Jules thought nothing of it, but would continue to glance back and forth out the window at them, hoping to catch a glance at what they might have been laughing about or why the kept looking over towards the store. Suddenly, in the middle of one instant glance at the window, Jules noticed the one that kept turning to the store pull his cloak above his head as if he were shielding the rain and came sprinting across the parking lot. If the fact that it was a bright sunny day was any clue to her, the fact that the running man's body was now smoking was a dead giveaway. Jules sprinted to Lock and pointed out the running man.  
The bell on the door jingled as the strange man burst through the door itself. He wiped the gathering of dust off his jacket and straightened himself as a few of the other customers in the store began to stare. "Wow, sir," Lock approached, "that's certainly some nasty smoke you got there."  
"Nasty habit. been trying to quit for years now." the strange man was able to force a sardonic smile.  
" Yes, well, welcome. I'd assume you'd be looking for some clothes today. You seem to be .a. 2xlt up top and I'd say... 46x34?"  
"You're good. why don't you round up everything you got in that. I'm gonna be doing some major business in here."  
"Well, sir, we actually have a great selection of that size in particular in the back. If you'd follow me, I can show you right where it is."  
The man nodded and followed Lock into the back room.  
"This is my assistant manager Jules. She can help you with a nice coat selection over there," he pointed towards the back door. She blanked for a second and then got the idea. "Hiya, Mr.?"  
"Crank."  
"Crank.ha. well that's certainly original. hehe. Anyways, let me have that jacket-cloak thingie there and we'll see how these coats look on you." Jules kept buttering him up as if she was going to actually make a sale here. He commented on here eyes and she blushed. He put his coat around her shoulders and said he wanted to imagine how his new coat would look on a beautiful woman, cuz that's what he wanted. Crank kept saying wonderful things and Jules' exaggerated ego caused her to completely forget about the smoking effect his skin pulled outside in the sunlight.  
"Jules!" Lock snapped.  
"What?!" she snapped back.  
"Um. the floor is.uh.kinda crowded. don't we have business to attend to?"  
"Oh, yeah," she realized, turning to her thick-charmed blood-sucker. She grabbed the handle of the back door and twisted it, "We should have some more nice jackets in here." She jacked the door open to reveal the open sunlight of the outside, at which time Lock sprinted forward and football tackled Crank in the back and out the door. After a few quick flames and a burst of dust, Lock wiped himself off and walked back into the store. "Good job Jules. it was kinda touch and go there with all the sexual vibes bouncing off the walls."  
"Hey, he ain't my boyfriend and he still has it in him to at least charm me every once and a while."  
"Well, great, and while I'm doing that, I'll kiss down your neck and drain you of your blood next time."  
"Maybe you should."  
"Maybe I will."  
"Yeah, you should, and by the way, if you're gonna keep calling me your assistant manager, then I should start getting a paycheck, punk."  
In a galaxy far, far away, there is an intergalactic war uprising between races of aliens and humans alike, and there is but one team of rebels that can stop this evil empire from destroying everything that is good and decent and replacing it with tyranny and hatred, ruling with an iron fist. right here, right now, you have four really lazy vampire hunters cheering them on between bites of popcorn. Larson walks out into the main room of the downstairs and just stares at them. Gene suddenly feels eyes glaring at him and turns to the former watcher, "What?"  
"Do you know I just got a call from Lock at work?" Larson began.  
"That's good. 'Nother slow Tuesday?"  
"Actually, he's rather busy. Between sales, he managed to dust a vampire."  
"Now THAT'S multi-tasking," Mark felt the need to include.  
"Yes, well, that means that he is earning money at the moment, slaying vampires, and simultaneously paying for the cable that you all have been watching for the past nine and a half hours, give or take several bathroom breaks," Larson complained.  
"Well, we did vote that Nick couldn't pee in the cup there," Antoine inanely put.  
"Gene, when are you taking them on tonight's hunt?" Larson was sounding more and more British.  
"Larson, baby, we're gonna roast 'em all tonight. But to do that, we need some rest and a little bit of the Force," Gene persisted.  
"Y'know, a light saber or two could really help our undead war." Nick threw in.  
"Vamps are dead, dumbass," Mark laughed, "You're thinking zombies."  
Larson marched back into the library stocks mumbling a few risqué British adjectives.  
Time has been wearing down and the time to close is nigh. Lock stares at the clock with his key out. Jules just escorted the last customer out and the seconds were flying by now. As the big hand hit the twelve, so too did the key turn the lock. Business had picked up near the end, but as the beautiful sunset softened the heart of the couple inside, it awakened something on the outside. As Lock counted up the register, a steady knock came at the front door. Lock sighed, and annoyed, threw down the bundle of cash into the register and walked up to the door, noticing what seemed to be about six or so teenage skater kids.  
"Sorry, fellas, the drawer's pulled and we're closed for the night. Try us in the morning," Lock yelled through the thick glass.  
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but I do have a question. You see, we've been hanging out here pretty much all day and our tall friend came in here earlier," the center of the group spoke, turning his head slightly and then turning it back to reveal a grotesque, protruding, vampiric face in its stead, ". and he seems to be a pile of dust in the back now, so, well, we have some things we'd like to go over with you."  
The vampire's fist hit the window, cracking it but not breaking it. Lock jumped back, horrified and immediately concerned about Jules, who had quickly pushed a table over and hid behind it. Lock joined her soon after: "Okay, I'm gonna stay calm, cuz this is what we do, right? We just have to call Larson and have them send out a team to back us up, right? I mean, they can't come in unless they're invited, right?" Jules was seemingly raving.  
"Well, nobody lives here, so as soon as they can break in a window, we're pretty much fair game." Lock realized at the sound of sobbing tears that the last statement may not have been the best. Jules settled herself enough to ask if there were any weapons in the place. "Well, I have one Hellfire Bomb in the back." Jules shot up and sprinted back there. Lock ran over to the phone as the vampires continued trying to beat the windows in. Finally, one fist of the head vampire broke cleanly through the pane of glass. Jules came out of the back with a baseball bat and the single Hellfire bomb. She beat the hand back and threw the bomb out the window, decimating one of the vamps. Lock screamed mid-ring, and Jules turned with an inquisitive smile: "What? I got one."  
"Yeah, but there was six. Now we have five really pissed off vampires and no weapons."  
"Oh."  
Moments later, Larson is sprinting from room to room, finally making his way into the TV area downstairs at the firehouse. "Gene, I just got a call from Lock. He needs back-up, immediately!" he screamed.  
" That cant be right." Gene said, "Lock's at work. We're doin the hunt tonight." "Yes, but the hunt has come to him. He's being attacked by a nest at his job."  
"Didn't you hear? Lock's multi-tasking now," Mark bellowed.  
"Over-kill, man," Gene pulled himself up off the couch, "C'mon, fellas."  
"But, dude.," Nicholas began, "Friends is up next."  
A dirty look was shared by all.  
Back in the formalwear department, Jules sets up her make-shift assault station. She looks over the racks to see Lock search vigorously for any kind of weapon. Of course, both carried standard-issue stakes as part of routine, but against demon strength and speed, a sharp, wooden poker wasn't going to bring anything down until they were down long enough for the two to get their aim right. Jules began to stare at him, something she does often when he starts getting all serious. Whenever he starts calculating plans in his head, or worrying about someone or somebody, he gets this strange little look in his eyes. He turned to look at her. She smiled and he smiled back, though she could tell that he was absolutely petrified for her and for himself. She held the stare until another window cracked. Jules grabbed to of what she calls "hanger thingies" (the long metal poles that sales clerks use to reach hangers hanging high up on the wall) and ran up to the cracked window. She held the two staffs up, crossed together like a cross, and started screaming repulsive words that shouldn't come out the mouth of a normal, civilized young lady. She frowned at the fact that the make-shift cross had no effect it seemed, until Lock tackled her to the ground just as a vampiric fist worked itself through the glass and towards her throat.  
"Ow. that hurt!" Jules complained, not effecting Lock in the least.  
"Okay, sweetie, for future reference, the reason holy water and crosses burn these guys is because they are holy and sacred. Holding two sticks together ain't holy or sacred, got it?" Lock handed her both his crosses and his crucifix chain, putting it closely around her neck. He then grabbed one of her metal poles and told her to get back into formalwear. She ran back and watched him work.  
Lock stepped firm in sporting wear, holding the pole like a staff, ready for a fight to the death. Jules debated between swooning for her boyfriend, strangely seeming sexier before combat, or passing out from fear of dying. Lock looked stoic as ever, staring at the horde of vampires, banging at the glass windows, shattering more and more with each blow. Thoughts raced through his mind; strange thoughts like battle schemes, sizing up the vamps to see who needs to be thinned first. A sudden thought ran through his mind of whether he closed the register or not. Then the glass came down. Jules screamed. She had insisted on calling the police, but Lock kept saying that they couldn't handle vampires and that we would just be calling them to die. She feels it all coming back to haunt them as the nest flies through, gunning straight for her boyfriend. HELL NO, she thought, and she pulled the first item from her weapon brigade. her boomerang box! Technically, they weren't boomerangs, granted, they were hangers. She began throwing them with the force of a major league pitcher, thoroughly pissing them off. Lock swung his staff like a madman, beating the vampires away from him with all his might. Unfortunately, as keen as he is with crossbows, axes, and holy water grenades, Lock suddenly realizes he never properly trained with either martial arts or bow staffs. It struck him soon enough as did a few layers of fists from several cold bodies. Lock sprinted into the undergarments section and through to the shoe department. Vampires flying each and everyway into and out of the corners of the store, trying to catch the elusive clerk. Lock at this time had all but given up the idea of fighting back until his eyes caught a figure in formalwear wielding a hanger and a pair of scissors. He sprinted towards her but took a boot to the ribs in the process. He flew into the knits and wovens department, toppling a few sets of four-way hanging stands.  
Jules had flipped her scissors around and was ready to use it against her two vampire assailants, until she realized that they were vampires and that there was two of them, at which time she turned and ran. She grabbed a tie of the tie rack and formed it into a Neuse. Waitaminute, she thought, fangs don't breathe. She dropped the tie and sprinted, wondering if anything in this store could possibly kill a vampire. She heard a bellowing scream and turned to look up, noticing that one of the vamps had hurled himself through the air and was plummeting towards her. She returned a scream of her own and instinctively fell flat to the ground. Upon hitting the ground on top of Jules, the vampire made a quirky choking noise, and then exploded into dust once it noticed that Jules had, in fact, placed her stake in the right place as she was falling. Wood to heart, and the vampire was dusted, an act that only worked to completely infuriate her remaining adversary. She opted to run again.  
Lock pulled himself up from the wreckage just in time to see a spastic, screaming woman sprint into active wear. As he straightened himself, he caught another boot to the face. He spit out a bit of blood and ran to accessories. He grabbed and started hurling handfuls of watches and suspenders at them. While slowing them slightly, they seemed more annoyed than anything else. Lock grabbed two thick belts off of the wall and started to beat the three with the buckle end of the belts. This seemed to work well until one of the got through the maelstrom with a haymaker fist to the face. That one caught Lock square, knocking him into the wall and down to the floor. He saw pretty, multicolored stars, and then a pair of enlarged animal teeth flying towards his neck.  
One advantage, Jules thought as she gasped for air while leaping and sprinting frantically through the store, was that that being a vampire meant you would never run out of breath. She was running and turning over racks and running some more and quickly running out of store to weave through. She looked over at the scrambling going on over in accessories and noticed the vampires rabbit punching and inevitably going in for the bite on Lock. She screamed his name and took a boomerang/hanger to the back of the head. She stumbled and hit the ground hard, rubbing her head and forgetting about what threw the hanger until it was right on top of her. The vampire turned her over and went in for the bite, suddenly thrusting away when it was burned from Lock's crucifix. She pulled out her two crosses that Lock gave her and pushed them both into the deadman's chest, burning a screech out of him.  
The vampire sank his fangs into Lock's neck, something that is usually protected by his Kevlar-mesh under-armor, which he tends not to wear when working the normally non-perilous day job. His whole body began to twitch and pull, trying desperately to flail his way out of the vampire's death grip. Through instances of blacking out, he saw Jules escape the clutches of a vampire and burn it to the ground with the two crosses he gave her. She turned and caught eyes with him, and thinking quickly, she slid one of her crosses all the way over the tile floor and into his now weak hand. He grabbed tightly and wrenched the cross onto the vampire's face. The demon released his grasp and cried out. Lock made it to his feet and tore off his sleeve, wrapping it around his neck wound. He held out the cross and planted his feet firm though his entire body was shaking and weak. While sliding the cross, though, Jules left herself open and was struck down by the vampire next to her. Lock saw this and, in shock, left himself open for one of the three vampires next to him to kick the cross from his hands. The vampire with the burned cross in his face grabbed Lock and held him up against the wall, punching him hard in the stomach. The vampire now on top of Jules again placed his knees on top of her hands and straddled her stomach, pulling her neck up by her hair and slowly licking the milky white flesh on her neck as she screamed over and over. Lock then fell to the ground again as the hand that was on his throat turned to dust. As did the vampire it was attached to. As did the two vamps licking their fangs and cheering him on. As did the vampire that was on top of Jules. Silence filled the room. Locked pulled himself up and leaned against the counter, looking towards the entrance.  
"Everyone okay?" Gene asked, he and his three couch mates retracted their crossbows. Jules began to cry, half from joy and half from stress. Lock immediately moved himself slowly towards the phone and called the police and ambulance. "Good hunt, boys.," Gene said, proud and yet strangely impatient, "Now let's go home. Law and Order's on."  
It isn't long before the police and ambulance arrive, as well as the store owner and everyone else involved. Lock sat on the back of the open ambulance, letting the EMT take one last look at his neck wound. He held Jules, covered in a blanket, in his arms and watched the Sheriff shake his head improvingly at the mess and make his way of to the truck.  
"Okay, Mr. Taylor," the Sheriff began, " I'm going to go over all of this one last time just to make sure we have all the details for this. You said that your girlfriend here was helping you close the store when a band of five robbers busted in the windows, trashed the store, stabbed you in the neck with a. what is this? A two-pronged kitchen fork? And then they left. And you cant identify any of them, at all?"  
"No, officer. They were dressed from head to toe in black. I couldn't see anything," Lock returned.  
"And they left with nothing despite the fact that the register was open the whole time.?" the Sheriff seemed to find this all suspicious.  
"Well, I suppose they were less robbers and more. uh. vandals," Jules included. The Sheriff just shook his head, wrote down a few things, and told them that they were free to leave. "Okay," Jules seemed a bit more chipper than before, "What's for dinner?"  
"Are you serious?"  
"Sure, I am," she flashed a beautiful smile, "You don't think I could possibly sleep after this, do you?"  
"I could do it pretty well."  
"Oh you're just saying that because of the massive blood loss. What do you usually do after a major slaughter.?"  
"Sleep."  
"Bull! You guys have major binges at them breakfast diners. Don't you think for a second I haven't heard yawls war stories, post hunt. Plus, you wouldn't believe how hungry I am. and strangely aroused, actually."  
"Now there's a war story I don't have."  
"Oh, shut up. Y'all do this stuff all the time. My hormones and estrogen and girl power and everything is maxed-out now, and I wanna tear into some burgers or something. Anything greasy, right about now. I think I've burned off enough hip to earn that right."  
"Look, we can go home and order some pizza. How bout that?"  
"Hmm. I guess. Why do you wanna go home so bad?"  
"I'm tired. I have two severe neck gouge wounds. I'm running off the Oreos that the EMT was nice enough to give me. I cant walk straight. I'm a walking bruise. Do I have to keep going?"  
"No. I understand. We'll just have to work off some of this energy when we get back to your place," she cooed and worked her way into a hug.  
"Yeah. ahh, dammit!" Lock yelled.  
"What, your neck?"  
"No. you mean to tell me Law and Order was tonight?" 


End file.
